


mess me up, wreck me over

by bunssodan



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: M/M, Mirror Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-02-27 20:47:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13256328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunssodan/pseuds/bunssodan
Summary: Jihoon should have seen it coming and he should have ran away while he could.





	mess me up, wreck me over

Jihoon should have seen it coming and he should have ran away while he could.

“Aren’t you going back to the dormitories too?” Jisung-hyung asks, wiping the sweat off with a towel, after making sure that the rest of the members are headed to the van that would drive them back to the dormitory.

Jihoon’s about to leap to grab his bag and go as well, but Woojin’s pushing him back— _ fuck _ , when did he get so strong? And Woojin’s smiling at Jisung-hyung, “We’re just going to discuss a bit more for our Wanna Be performances, hyung.”

Jisung-hyung raises an eyebrow, and Jihoon wants to slap his own forehead at the pathetic excuse that Woojin’s giving. Really? Discussion for their dance break at Wanna Be? That’s something that could easily be discussed backstage!

“We’ll lock up, hyung,” Woojin adds. “Don’t worry.”

With the amount of time that they have spent together as a group, Jihoon thinks that Jisung-hyung isn’t entirely convinced with what Woojin had to say. He knows that because he sees the way Jisung-hyung’s mouth opens and closes, but if there are any words that were lying at the tip of his tongue, they get swallowed back into his throat.

“Alright, kids,” Jisung-hyung walks over to give them both pats on their heads. “Don’t stay up too late, and give me a text when you’re heading back to the dorm.”

“Sure, hyung,” Woojin gives him a thumbs up, and also nudges Jihoon at the side. “Hey, say something!”

“Yeah, hyung!” Jihoon manages to bite out. “We’ll be  _ fine _ .”

Jihoon doubts it.

 

—

 

When Woojin starts giving  _ examples  _ of what they could possibly do during the dance break, Jihoon really begins to regret not escaping from the dance studio while he could, following Jisung-hyung and relishing in the comfort that is Jisung-hyung and the rest of their members. Because Park Woojin definitely doesn’t get the memo that their performances are meant to be suitable for audiences of all ages, and Jihoon is pretty damn sure that those hip rolls do  _ not  _ belong to such a performance; and rather, he’s doing it because he  _ wants  _ Jihoon.

It’s not that Jihoon doesn’t want Woojin too. He definitely has his eyes glued to the way Woojin has been rolling his hips and he’s been trying to not-so conspicuously adjust his sweatpants (which he’s very thankful that he decided to wear them today), and he  _ knows  _ that Woojin has noticed the way tension has been building up between the two of them because he gives Jihoon  _ that  _ smirk.

Jihoon can’t help but shy away from the ferocity of Woojin’s gaze and he knows that Woojin has probably noticed it because the next thing Jihoon knows is that Woojin’s voice is by his ear, asking him, “So, what do you think?”

“I think you’re ridiculous,” Jihoon huffs. “You can’t be thinking of performing  _ that  _ on stage.”

“Why would I perform that on stage when I have  _ you _ ?”

It’s terrible how Woojin has this effect on him—how it’s so easy for Woojin to say the  _ right  _ words and he’ll feel the familiar heat pooling down. Jihoon can feel his heart beating rapidly against his ribcage, and his thoughts are already beginning to be a mess, and he doesn’t know where else to look except at the ground because he’s so afraid that if he were to look up, he’d faint from looking at the intensity of Woojin’s gaze.

“Baby,” Woojin growls into his ear, and Jihoon feels it. He feels the way Woojin’s touching him already, one hand on the tent that’s forming and another hand stroking the sides of his body. “Let me take your clothes off for you.”

Jihoon groans. Every fucking time Woojin calls him  _ baby _ , he just gets  _ so _ weak. He wants to surrender himself entirely to Woojin, wants Woojin to take care of him, wants to feel  _ spoilt  _ by Woojin. And Woojin definitely knows that it’s his weak spot, because Jihoon can hear the smirk in his voice, and he can’t help but nod weakly.

There are typhoon warnings, but they still don’t prepare you for when the storm is _ actually  _ here—and Jihoon thinks that that’s exactly what Woojin is. Because no matter what Woojin says, no matter how many times they do this, Woojin’s touch still feels like fire dancing on the edge of his skin, and every touch is so intensely delightful. He feels Woojin’s hand rolling up his shirt—up, up,  _ up _ —and it’s off his body now and he can’t bring himself to look at Woojin, who’s petting his head and saying, “Look at how pretty you are.”

“Y-You’re ridiculous,” Jihoon doesn’t know how he finally managed to find his voice, but it’s also now that he manages to look up from the floor and he didn’t actually realise that they were on the floor, and the mirror is in front of them—reflecting the sinful image that is  _ them _ .

Woojin’s grinning at the reflection and when Jihoon meets Woojin’s eyes in the mirror. He knows that Woojin is definitely as turned on as he is, from the way his eyes are glazed over with lust, the way his breathing has deepened and the way Jihoon can feel the tent growing from his side. Jihoon honestly doesn’t understand how Woojin manages to keep his sanity throughout all this because all he knows is that he’s falling, falling,  _ falling  _ deeper into the abyss that’s Park Woojin.

Then, Woojin is pinning Jihoon to the ground and he’s lapping at his neck and his fingers are running down the expanse of Jihoon’s body. He feels so horribly over sensitive, that every touch feels like it’s been amplified by a thousand bolts and he can’t help but let the moans escape freely from his mouth. When he does, he feels the heat rush to his face, and his hands move naturally to cover his mouth.

But when he does that, Woojin growls and he’s tearing his hands away from his mouth and he says, “Don’t you dare do that again, baby.”

“I want to hear  _ all  _ of you.” And he adds, “If you do that again, I’m stopping—and, you  _ know  _ I would.”

Jihoon knows. He definitely does know how Woojin gets whenever he’s in  _ this  _ mood. And whenever Woojin’s like this, it’s so fucking hot and Jihoon can’t decide whether he wants to edge him on, wants to see how rough he can get—or if he wants to be pliant to Woojin’s demands so he can relish in the fiery touches and wet licks.

“Okay,” Jihoon manages to breathe out, and he feels the shivers go down his spine as Woojin’s hand has stopped stroking along his sides, inching nearer to his pants. He can’t help but let his breath hitch as Woojin’s hand stops right above the waistband of his sweatpants. He doesn’t need Woojin to say anything because he knows,  _ knows  _ him like a damn book (and perhaps, it’s because Woojin always likes to hear the  _ same _ things) and so he cries out, “I’ll be good, Woojinnie.  _ Please, please, please _ .”

“God,” Woojin groans, and Woojin takes a single hand to run them through his hair and when he says, “You’re so  _ fucking  _ hot”. Jihoon wants to shake his head and tell him “No, you’re the one who’s ruining me.”

He does say it, which makes the smug smirk return to Woojin’s face. Jihoon almost braces himself for several more heartbeats of teasing, but then Woojin’s pulling away from him. He can’t help but whine at the loss of contact, the loss of Woojin’s heat—but it’s definitely an action that’s for the better because Woojin’s taking off his shirt—and  _ fuck _ , the way the residual sweat from dancing glistens on his sun-kissed skin, the way Jihoon can make out the faint outlines of his dancer abs is making Jihoon want more,  _ more  _ and more.

“Like what you see?” Woojin teases, and  _ god,  _ why the hell is he so smug? And why does he sound so good like this?

“Yeah,” Jihoon squints. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“That’s good to know, baby,” Woojin’s fingers are dancing on the waistband of his own pants, and Jihoon feels his own breath hitching in anticipation for what’s to come. “Because everything you see is all  _ yours _ .”

It’s a heartbeat later when Woojin’s hands are off, and Jihoon can’t tear his eyes away from the outline of Woojin’s cock that’s straining against his boxers. He knows that Woojin’s probably relishing in watching Jihoon get ruined by just seeing and Jihoon wants to feel him, wants Woojin to be  _ closer  _ to him and wants to feel more of Woojin’s  _ heat _ .

Then, there are fingers pressing against his lips, and Jihoon opens them and wraps his mouth against Woojin’s fingers. He doesn’t know when it has become so natural to him—to suck, lick and nibble against the rough calloused fingers.

Somewhere along the way, he finds out that he has come to enjoy sucking on Woojin’s fingers, and sometimes, when Woojin gets a tad  _ too  _ rough and he’s choking on the fingers, Jihoon finds the stronger heat pooling underneath and  _ god,  _ he just  _ loves  _ it whenever Woojin’s rough. There’s just something about a strong Woojin that  _ gets  _ to him. Perhaps, it’s the way that Woojin’s just so ridiculously dominant, that he could make him bend and break at any moment but he doesn’t. There’s just something about the control that Woojin wields that makes him so powerful, and Jihoon relishes in the very feeling of being subordinate to it.

“ _ God _ ,” Woojin groans, and Jihoon doesn’t miss the way Woojin’s grabbing at his wallet from the corner of his eye—and Jihoon is definitely  _ excited  _ for what’s about to come. “You’re so damn good with your mouth.”

Jihoon feels the pride swell within his chest, and it’s always,  _ always  _ nice to be praised, to be complimented especially if it’s by Park Woojin because whenever that happens, it always means that something  _ good  _ is about to come. And together with the pride that’s welling up in his chest, he suddenly gets a rare surge of confidence. There’s a loud  _ pop  _ sound that resonates within the empty room when he opens his mouth and he smirks against Woojin’s fingers, “I could be sucking something else now, if you want.”

“Oh? Is my baby getting bossy?”

“No,” Jihoon shakes his head. “I’m just giving suggestions.”

“Duly noted,” Woojin pets his head. It’s almost soft and gentle, but then Jihoon feels his grip against his hair, and Woojin’s tugging at it and there’s that glint of aggressiveness in his voice. “But baby, I think you need to remember who’s in charge here.”

Jihoon gulps and he nods his head immediately. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. My baby was just trying to make everything  _ better _ , after all,” but there isn’t a single tone of reassurance in his voice so Jihoon goes back to sucking on Woojin’s fingers, taking two fingers into his mouth now.

Jihoon would usually close his eyes so he relishes in the sensation of sucking on Woojin’s fingers, so that there would be an element of surprise when Woojin does something new; but there’s something that tells him that he should keep his eyes open, and he does keep them open this time. Admittedly, it causes him to digress as his sucking and licking get messy but he thinks it’s probably fine because Woojin hasn’t said anything; and in fact, Jihoon thinks that Woojin probably  _ likes  _ it from the way his eyes are closed, and Jihoon can see the soundless groans coming from him.

“Okay, baby,” and Jihoon takes that as his cue to take his mouth off his fingers. “On your back.”

It isn’t even the first time that they are doing this, but Jihoon can’t help but feel his heartbeat quicken, beating hard and quick against his chest. No matter what Woojin tries to do to distract him, the first finger always takes him by surprise. He watches the way Woojin’s inching closer towards him, pushing his weight onto his knees, and Jihoon finds himself holding his breath.

“Relax, baby,” Woojin whispers, and he’s rolling Jihoon’s sweatpants down together with his briefs. He didn’t actually realise how hard he had gotten—not until his cock is hanging out and  _ fuck _ , was the dance studio this cold? But he quickly gets enveloped in heat, because Woojin’s wrapping a hand around his dick and he’s also pressing his weight down against Jihoon and then he’s kissing him while stroking his cock, and  _ fuck _ —there’s so much sensations that he’s feeling right now that he can’t quite focus on a single thing at once.

Woojin’s hand is like fucking hellfire, and he’s kissing the shit out of him. Jihoon feels the way his tongue is invading his own mouth, licking into every corner and crevice of his mouth and then, his tongue is pressing against his own; and when Jihoon moans against his lips, Woojin retracts his tongue and then he’s alternating between biting and sucking at his lower lip. Jihoon doesn’t know how Woojin’s able to concentrate on touching him  _ and  _ kissing him senseless at the same time because all Jihoon can think of is how weak and pliant he feels, and how he’s completely putty in Woojin’s hands.

He only comprehends that he’s moaning, moaning so fucking much without a single care in the world because it’s one of the rare times that they are alone, in the dance studio and there’s no need for him to keep his voice muffled or down. He can’t help but let out a whine, even as Woojin’s mouth is still mashed against his as Woojin’s hand is off his cock, and the warmth is gone. He knows what’s about to come, and Jihoon does try his best to relax,  _ relax _ —but he still feels his own breath hitch when he feels Woojin’s finger circle his rim, and there’s just something about it—how it’s so close, but so far; and how he wouldn’t be able to prepare for the exact moment when Woojin’s finger actually ente—and fuck, of course, Woojin  _ would  _ press his fingers in now.

He yelps, because the feeling of Woojin’s finger in him is foreign, and he can feel the way his muscles are tensing around the finger. The stretch is painful, but Jihoon knows that he’ll eventually come to adjust to the stretch and in several moments, he’d be wrecked, in a mess and begging for more.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” Woojin murmurs against his lips after pulling away from the kiss; and it’s also then when he feels Woojin’s finger giving a particularly hard thrust and it hits that particular spot— _ fuck,  _ it almost makes Jihoon want to scream but it manages to come out as a loud moan. “ _ Oh _ , it’s there, isn’t it?”

There’s that  _ smugness  _ to his voice, and Jihoon groans because he knows that Woojin’s about to abuse the knowledge. He knows that Woojin’s going to draw out the fingering, now that he’s found his spot and he wants Woojin’s cock, not his fucking fingers so he manages to find his voice and demand, “I can take  _ more _ . _ ” _

He would have expected Woojin to shoot back a reply about how he’s the one in charge, so Jihoon doesn’t get to make demands. But surprisingly, Woojin just gives him another smirk and then he’s adding another finger after deeming that he could adjust to the current finger. There’s just something that feels so good about being filled with Woojin’s fingers and every time he fingers him, it always feels like the first time; like the novelty of being fingered never wears off.

It’s a torturous process to be slowly stretched out by Woojin’s fingers, but Woojin’s also mouthing at his collarbone and Jihoon knows that Woojin’s going to leave marks so he reminds, “Don’t make them obvious.”

It’s a pain whenever their makeup artist gives him a  _ look  _ whenever Woojin leaves marks on the obvious places like his neck. Although Jihoon knows that Woojin  _ does  _ relish in seeing the marks on Jihoon’s skin—the very evidence of their activities from the night before, and the very evidence that Jihoon belongs to Woojin—he doesn’t want to deal with the  _ looks  _ and Woojin understands.

“Yeah, I know,” Woojin responds, before sucking on the soft skin and then, there’s a third finger that’s being added in; and god, the stretch is so painfully delightful and Jihoon can’t wait for the moment when it’s Woojin’s dick that’s actually in him.

There’s soon a particular rhythm to how Woojin is thrusting his fingers inside him, and Jihoon can’t help but find himself riding on the fingers, wanting more of the hot contact, wanting to see how much can Woojin stretch him; and it’s also the reason why he whines when Woojin takes out his fingers. Jihoon cries out at the feeling of emptiness within him and his entire mind is in a mess because all he can do now is babble Woojin’s name in between demands for more, more _,_ _more_.

And it’s exactly why Woojin takes his time, and his breath is fire on his neck when he teases, “So baby,  _ tell me,  _ what do you want?”

It takes him a while to actually realise that Woojin’s talking to him, and it takes almost everything out of him to say, “Just fuck me, Woojinnie _. Fuck me _ .”

Woojin has always moved fast, but fuck—it’s always so satisfying whenever Woojin moves fast in times like these; and the next thing Jihoon knows is that, Woojin has Jihoon’s legs over his shoulders, and Jihoon braces himself for the next moment. When the fuck did Woojin even put on the condom?

_ God, god, fuck, fuck, Woojin, WOOJIN _ , and those are the only words that run through his brain as Woojin enters him. It’s an entirely different sensation as compared to when Woojin’s fingers were inside him. This time, it feels warmer, hotter,  _ thicker _ and the thought of Woojin just being  _ inside  _ of him is just so fucking hot.

“How’s it, baby?” Woojin whispers. It’s soft, but it’s loud in the empty room; and Jihoon can’t bring himself to form actual words except moan loudly and he hopes that it tells Woojin what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling—and it probably does because Woojin reaches out to pet his aching cock and goes, “Such a good boy.”

It’s easy to surrender to the pleasure—to the sensation of Woojin simply entering and then exiting him; and it soon forms a rhythm that Jihoon can’t help but want Woojin to go deeper, harder,  _ harder _ . It’s hard to focus on anything else but Woojin being inside him, and he finds himself pliant to Woojin’s every action.

"Look baby," Woojin murmurs by his ear, "Open your eyes and look at yourself."

Jihoon didn't quite realise when he had actually closed his eyes. Perhaps, it was when Woojin started to thrust inside him, and he could do nothing but surrender to the pleasure, surrender himself wholly to Park Woojin. And when he does open his eyes, he can't help but scream because the mirrors are in front—and all he can focus on is the sight of Woojin's cock in him. The motion is compelling, and he can't focus on anything except the way Woojin's dick is moving in and out, in and out. It's a rhythm that's solely  _ theirs _ , and Jihoon can't tear his eyes away.

"Baby," Woojin's voice is like fire, and his touch is hellfire. "Look at how well you're taking all of me in.”

It's also at this moment where he gives a particularly hard thrust and Jihoon wants to cry because it's that spot, it's that _ fucking _ spot. And Woojin knows it because Jihoon can hear the smirk in his voice, "Oh? It's there isn't it, baby?"

"I c-can't," Jihoon cries out. He really can't. It’s getting hard to keep his eyes open, not when he wants to close his eyes and feel all of the pleasure, and just leave everything to his senses. And he feels his eyes closing but—

"No," Woojin growls and he feels the movement inside him come to a stop, and then there's nothing. And Jihoon thinks he's about to cry, and he's trying to jerk back so he can get anything, anything that feels like Woojin in him again but  _ fuck _ , why is Woojin so strong? He can feel his bruising grip on his hips, and it's painful but it just feels so damn good.  “Keep your fucking eyes open or I’m stopping."

Jihoon tries to keep his eyes open, and it’s also now that the grip on his hips get tighter, and he wonders if they are going to get bruised at this rate. But perhaps, he wants them to bruise because his body is trying to jerk upwards, for any form of contact, any notion of heat against his aching cock; and Woojin is pressing him down, “Stay down, baby.” 

He whines, “I c-can’t, Woojinnie. I need m-more. I n-need you.” 

“I can give it to you,” Woojin’s leaning in to whisper in his ears, and it sounds like how Jihoon imagines trading with the devil is like. “But you have to promise to stay good.”

“I’ll be g-good,” Jihoon nods rapidly. “I p-promise!”

“Alright,” Woojin shifts his hands away from his hips to pet his head, and then his other hand is on Jihoon’s cock and Jihoon groans at how there’s  _ finally _ contact on his dick, and he had been aching so badly for it. 

It’s easy to get into the rhythm of Woojin thrusting into him and stroking him off. Jihoon starts to feel spoilt, and being touched  _ and  _ filled up at the same time; and truly, there isn’t anyone else who would treat him the same way as Woojin does, no one else who would know all his kinks and the means to mess him up and wreck him over. 

 

He knows that Woojin’s about to come from the way his movements start to get erratic, the way he hitches his breath and the way he’s moaning Jihoon’s name in the middle of all the  _ fuck, fuck, you’re so tight, you feel so fucking good _ —and it’s only a matter of time that he comes undone inside Jihoon. 

It’s warm and wet, and it’s also what that prompts Jihoon to come as well; and then there’s ropes of come in between them as Jihoon closes his eyes to surrender himself to the feeling of release. 

Jihoon can still feel Woojin growing soft inside of him. The movement doesn’t still, instead it slows down and there’s that sense of gentleness. He’s almost sad that it’s coming to an end, that the feeling of being filled with Woojin disappears as Woojin pulls out. He’s still panting from the tension and the activity, and he senses Woojin walk away (probably to throw the condom away) and Jihoon thinks that he’s about to melt onto the ground from the fatigue. 

He opens his eyes slowly when he feels something rough on his stomach—it’s Woojin wiping the come off his stomach. When he deems that most of the come is gone, he throws the towel onto the nearby bench and then, he’s pulling Jihoon into his arms. 

They are both naked and sweaty, but Jihoon’s heart feels so warm and filled with love. 

“That was amazing,” Woojin presses a kiss onto the side of Jihoon’s forehead, and then presses his chin into Jihoon’s hair. “I hope you enjoyed it too, Jihoon.” 

It’s like he didn’t actually comprehend what had transpired between them—not until now, and he feels the heat rush to his face. “It was nice.”

“Just  _ nice _ ?” Woojin gives a particularly hard poke of his chin. 

Jihoon rolls his eyes. It’s just like Woojin to take pride of whatever he had done to Jihoon, and wants Jihoon to admit it. “Fine, it was  _ amazing _ .” 

Apparently, the answer is enough to satisfy Woojin because he tightens his arms around Jihoon’s waist and he starts pressing soft kisses onto Jihoon’s hair. 

Sure, idol life can be  _ shit _ at times, but Jihoon thinks that it’s fine, if it means that Woojin’s by his side. 

 

—

 

They end up forgetting to lock the door.

The next morning, Jisung-hyung screams at them when Wanna One arrives at the practice room and the door is left briefly ajar.

**Author's Note:**

> if you liked it, maybe you could hit me up on my [cc](https://curiouscat.me/chamwink). feel free to follow me on my [sfw twitter](https://twitter.com/99izm) or my [nsfw twitter](https://twitter.com/chokerjihoon).


End file.
